


Heaven's Army

by randomfills (spnfanatic)



Series: The Last Defense [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Sam Winchester, Gen, Lucifer!Sam, Michael!Dean, POV Multiple, Soulless Dean Winchester, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfanatic/pseuds/randomfills
Summary: AU to season 4 When Castiel raised Dean Winchester from perdition, he forgot one crucial thing. His soul.Soulless!Dean, eventual Michael!Dean and Lucifer!Sam (repost)
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: The Last Defense [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047175
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo...I thought about this for a long time, since I abandoned my work actually. This was one of my first stories that I posted on AO3, years and years ago and had orphaned due to some reasons. I have been debating for quite some time now whether to post it again on this account and continue it, and I've decided I'm going to repost it on here and edit the story as best I can as I go along and may even continue it. I realize that I have a lot of stories going on but reposting this won't really impact my other stories since a lot of this story had already been written many years ago. I'm just reposting it so that I can have the option to continue with it in the future if I want to. Thanks again for reading and stay safe out there!!

A soul was crucial to human beings. It was the conscience, the one thing that let people be taught right from wrong. It made people feel remorse and compassion. Essentially it made a person good. It was the key to unlocking Heaven. Sometimes a soul could be born a little bit tilted, a little bit more prone to corruption. But that was why God made angels, the mighty warriors of Heaven. To guide His future creations on the correct path. Still, some souls went under the radar. Lost, lonely, gone down to Hell. Angels weren’t born with souls.

Maybe, maybe if Castiel kept telling himself that, he’d believe that he hadn’t just messed up big time when he raised Dean Winchester from perdition…without his soul.

Dean felt different. Something had been…off since he’d clawed his way out of his grave. He’d stumbled down the dusty, unused road that eventually led him to an empty gas station. That was where everything went straight to Hell (though not quite literally, Dean would know or would he?). Dean was thirsty. Hella thirsty. After being stuck down in Hell for so long he supposed that was a normal enough reaction. He had a body now and that body needed stuff, stuff to survive, like air and food and water. Fuck was that something he’d need to get used to all over again. Other than that, being topside wasn’t so bad. Better, way better than down below.

At least that was what he thought before the loud screech reached his ears and sent the window cracking and the ground trembling. He dropped the ‘Busty Asian Beauty’ porn he’d been looking at like it was hot coal and dove to the floor covering his ears and shouting to no one in particular, maybe God at this point, “What the fuck is going on!”

Dean didn’t expect an answer of course.

The noise and the shaking stopped as soon as it started and Dean was left with a ‘what the fuck’ at the tip of his tongue again, he felt it trying to creep out, but somehow he’d managed to roll over on his back without further incident, still a bit shaken but that was it, and then he was getting back up to his feet and grabbing the porn back up like nothing happened even though, he was sure, positive, that something major did happen. Later, he’d get to the bottom of it. He flipped open the magazine and looked at nude pictures. And that was that.

Calling Bobby only came to his mind after another twenty minutes of wandering. He found a payphone and dug into his jacket pocket not really expecting to find anything but to his surprise, he came out with a handful of quarters, nickels and dimes.  
How convenient, he thought to himself before using them to make the phone call.

Bobby’s reaction was…expected. He didn’t believe it was Dean. Dean didn’t really expect him to, not really. It should’ve hurt, it should’ve made his heart ache at the rejection, but somehow Dean managed to stay upright. He only felt impatient and annoyed at the prospect of having to hitch a ride all the way to Bobby and give him an in-person visit to confirm as far as Dean knew, he was in fact, Dean. Something may be missing, something Dean still wasn’t too sure of what it was yet, but he was Dean and Bobby would have to accept it.

It didn’t take as long to find some lonely trucker and he hitched a ride from bum-fuck wherever straight to Sioux Falls. He remembered that was where Bobby lived, where his junkyard was. It should still be there because according to the newspaper folded up and tucked away in his jacket only four months had gone by topside while down there, down in Hell, Dean had lived decades. Decades of torture, of hopelessness, of longing for something he just knew he’d never have again, of…Dean closed the door to Hell in the back of his mind. While it didn’t hurt nearly as much as he thought it would to remember all of that, it was still an unpleasant experience all together. Because Dean still remembered pain.

“Why’re ya going all the way there?” the scruffy, bearded man asked.

Dean stared out the window at the passing scenery. Flashing lights and blurs of trees, rain smacking against the windshield, the windows, the pavement and grass. Dark, gray clouds swirling in the distance like something foreboding, casting a dark shadow over the world. “I have a friend who lives there,” Dean said simply.

The driver nodded and Dean watched the world pass in silence.

Bobby should’ve seen it coming to be honest. Dean had given him enough hints in the phone calls he’d made and plus, well, it was Bobby. He knew Dean, he loved him like family. Still the man wasn’t the least bit pleased when he opened the door to see Dean in all his former glory standing on his porch. Dean underwent the usual ‘gotta make sure you’re not some monster wearing my kid’s face’ routine and passed with flying colors. Much to Bobby’s dismay if the look on his face once he’d finished trying to carve Dean’s heart out was anything to go by.

“Seriously. I’m me,” Dean deadpanned.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Bobby said before he proceeded to throw holy water…on his face.

Spitting out water, Dean said, “I’m not a demon either you know.”

Bobby shrugged and they stood there kind of awkwardly for a moment, just looking at each other. Dean supposed it was to be expected. People didn’t just get sent to Hell only to come back out four months later as a free man. It was unheard of, impossible. So of course Bobby was in the right to act this way. Dean should be mad at him, hurt that the man who practically raised him better than his own father would act suspicious of his every move. The thing was, though, Dean wasn’t mad. Hell, he wasn’t even hurt. He didn’t feel any kind of pang or twinge of something that a normal person might’ve felt if they’d been in his shoes.

He wondered if the lack of feeling was because of all that time spent down in Hell. Was this considered normal for a man that had just been sent topside after four decades of unspeakable horror?

Or was there just something wrong with Dean Winchester in particular?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of this story should be out tonight. As I said, just reposting all of this and may plan to continue it later. I orphaned a lot of stories previously.

Sam stopped suddenly and rolled off the bed. Ruby was perplexed by his action, rolling to her stomach to trail her gaze after him where he was putting his pants back on hurriedly. Sam looked back at her, no apology in his hazel eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked with a frown.

“Nothing,” he said, but there was a hesitance that told her it wasn’t ‘nothing’. She lifted an eyebrow and he sighed. “Nothing, it’s just…I’ve got this feeling.”

“Just a feeling?”

Ruby heard it so many times in the past four months it just didn't faze her as much as it used to. When he was scouring through libraries quicker than wildfire looking for spells, rituals, anything that had even hinted at a way to save his precious brother from Hell. It was annoying really. Sam spent months with Ruby, but only in the physical sense. Mentally? It was all Dean.

Sam’s definition of love was family. And Dean, even burning in Hell right now, was family. Would always be family. Ruby knew she didn’t stand a chance to begin with.

Sam had a hungry look on his face and Ruby wondered what she’d missed. She followed his gaze slowly to her arm and felt a smug grin tug at her lips. Dean could keep his position as Sam’s big brother because Ruby had something better.

“Is it that time again, Sammy?” she asked and heard Sam growl in response.

Hook, line, sinker.

“What?”

Bobby sighed and took off his cap to rub the top of his head, tired and downright frustrated with Dean’s behavior if he was being completely honest with himself. Something was clearly wrong with Dean, even if he wasn’t a demon. That much Bobby knew for good. And this just further confirmed it, him just sitting here cross-legged with that goddamn blank expression that was becoming unnerving.

“I said ‘what are you gonna do now that you’re out the pit’?” Bobby repeated through clenched teeth. What he really wanted to ask was why the hell Dean wasn’t asking for his brother, the one that he up and burned in Hell for. He held his tongue to give the kid a chance to ask for himself because as far as Bobby knew, maybe he was just blowing things out of proportions. He sure as hell hoped so at least.

Dean shrugged in this casual way that made Bobby want to grind his teeth together. “I don’t know, Bobby. Hunt some more, I guess. I mean it’s not like the world stopped moving just ‘cos I got drawn with the short straw for a ‘lil while, right?”

He was all smiles and jokes now. Bobby couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and glared down at the man that he used to think of as his own son. “God damn it, Winchester!” Bobby exploded. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Dean blinked up at him, his face betraying nothing of what he was feeling. Bobby felt his heart clench. “What’s wrong with you?” he pleaded this time, crumbling in front of him and gripping his shoulders tightly.

 _What did Hell do to you?_ He thought.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Dean said finally. “What’s the matter with you?”

His hands came up and pried Bobby loose. Bobby stayed where he was as Dean got up and said, “I’ll be in the study when you feel like talking about it.” He was gone before Bobby could process what just happened. Clenching his fists, Bobby knew one thing for certain now.

That was not Dean Winchester.

It couldn’t be.

He headed into the study five minutes later.

“That was fast. You gonna tell me what’s going on now?” Dean asked.

Bobby swallowed visibly. Dean still seemed unconcerned, his face a professional blank mask. Dean used to be an open book before. Well not exactly an open book, Bobby amended. But it was certainly more expressive than this.

“There’s something wrong with you, Dean,” Bobby said.

“No there isn’t,” Dean said, the curve of his lip drooping down.

“There is,” Bobby insisted.

“Oh yeah?” There was a challenge in Dean’s eyes now. “What’s the matter with me then since you’re such an expert, huh, Bobby?”

Bobby huffed angrily, wishing Dean could just see how he was acting. It wasn’t normal.

Dean took the silence as a surrender. “See? You don’t know because there’s _nothing_ to know. Because there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Oh damn it, boy! Can you even hear yourself? Fine! You want to know why I think there’s something wrong with you? Because you never, not once, asked for your goddamn brother, you selfish asshole!”

“What?”

“I know you've been through some messed up shit down there, but Dean, you always ask for your brother. _Always._ ”

Bobby wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting after that admission. Shock, tons of questions, pleading, demands of Sammy’s whereabouts. Normal people would’ve done any of those things. Dean Winchester was by no means a normal person but his love and dedication to his brother deserved…something. Something more than what Bobby got.

A blank stare, lots of blinking, a frown. Confusion. A soft, “Oh.” Then lots more silence afterwards.

Bobby wondered later that night if Hell broke Dean after all.

In the morning, Dean already had out a box of cereal. He looked up and asked, casual like, “Where is Sammy these days anyway?” Bobby noted the lack of anger in his voice. Not a trace of bitterness. And it felt wrong, was wrong.

“I, uh, don’t know,” Bobby said.

Dean raised an eyebrow but that was the extent of his reaction. Bobby had no idea what he was feeling on the inside, wasn’t even entirely sure he was feeling anything at all. “You don’t know.”

Bobby shook his head. “No. He cut off from me weeks after you died.”

Not even a flinch. Dean looked back down at his cereal bowl and took a bite. “You didn’t try too hard to keep him around, did you?” Bobby could be imagining that was an accusation. Looking at Dean eating cereal and reading the morning papers like it was just any normal morning, he probably was. He refused to believe this was Dean.

“I did try. I tried my hardest to keep him ‘round,” he insisted anyway.

Dean just said, “Okay.” He shook the box of cereal on the table. “Want some?”


	3. Chapter 3

“So what do you remember?” Bobby asked as he made himself a bowl of Wheaties. He shoved a spoonful in and almost spat it out. He never liked the cereal all that much and wasn’t sure why he kept a box around.

Dean didn’t seem to mind...that, or his taste buds had also been burned off in Hell. He looked up and paused in mid chew. “Not much. Lots of pain mostly. Torture I guess. It was Hell, Bobby.” That seemed to signal the end of that conversation as Dean shoveled another spoon in his mouth, leaving Bobby to imagine what it must’ve been like. He shuddered at the images his mind projected, of Dean crucified to a cross, alone, scared, yelling, angry. Hell couldn’t have been a very pleasant thing to experience.

“Right.” Bobby cleared his throat and decided to change subjects. “Why do you think…have you thought of what could’ve pulled you out? Gotta say, kid, but this can’t be normal mojo we got going.”

Dean sighed as he put down his spoon. “I know. I’m pretty sure no one’s ever walked out of Hell before.”

Bobby shrugged. “Can’t say I ever heard of a case before now.”

“So you think it was a demon or something? Maybe a ritual of some kind, a powerful witch? But then we get to ‘why’. The motive. Logically, I can’t see why anyone would choose me to pull out when they have over thousands of souls to pick from. No, Bobby, let’s be objective here. I know I’m not exactly the brightest tool in the shed, and while I may be a good hunter there are way better hunters out there than me.”

It was that self-loafing that Bobby hated about Dean Winchester. Said in a manner like that, like it was a statement, a fact, like saying the sky was blue and the sun was hot, he hated even more. It seemed to be a trend going with all the Winchesters. First, John with his guilt and anger at the world when he lost Mary. Failing as a father and having to rely on his marine training to keep going, to protect his sons. Sammy with his own guilt complex, shouldering the world and every single burden he could find, alone, because somehow he got it in his head this whole mess was his own fault…then there was Dean.

Love did terrible things to a person. Bobby knew that, saw that, experienced that himself. He knew all about love and revenge and guilt and somehow, he’d gone from a hermit living in his own salvage yard only seeing people when they stopped by to get information or something fixed–he’d gone from that to…what was he now exactly? Family? Family was something you’d save in a heartbeat or damn well die trying. Would he die for the Winchesters? Most definitely. So yes he was family. He considered them family. He was sure they considered him family as well.

So when Dean wanted Bobby to be objective? Considering everything they’d gone through in the years, Bobby knew he couldn’t. And even in an objective point of view, a hunter’s point of view, what Dean was saying was wrong. Maybe he didn’t have the book smarts like Sam. But he was damn well smart. He was street smart. He wasn’t the best hunter in the world, sure, but he was more than a good hunter. Still Bobby could see where Dean was getting at. Maybe it wasn’t a witch behind this fiasco, Bobby was sure, more than seventy-five percent, that there wasn’t a witch in this entire world that was powerful enough to pull someone out of Hell anyway. And he couldn’t see why a demon would want to pull out a soul whose date came due.

Unless of course the demon was of the Crossroads variety. Bobby knew one person that would want Dean Winchester back alive and topside enough to hunt down a scumbag sales demon to make a damn deal with. Did he really need to point that out to him? Was Dean that far gone that he couldn’t see the answer right in his face? Bobby felt a cold chill race up his spine at the implications.

“I won’t argue with you. We’d go ‘round in circles if I tried. You’re smart, Dean, more than you allow to give yourself credit for,” Bobby said at last. Dean shrugged but allowed him to continue. “As for the possible motives. Who has more reason than anybody to want his damn pigheaded brother back?”

“Sam,” Dean breathed. It was like a light suddenly flipped on inside him and he stood up. “It makes sense.”

“Of course it makes sense. You’re brothers. You went to Hell for him, he goes to Hell for you,” Bobby said, getting frustrated by how illogical Dean seems to be acting.

“Yeah, you’re right, Bobby. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.” Dean was halfway to the phone Bobby had hooked to the kitchen wall by the time Bobby had the sense to get up and stalk over.

“What are you doing?”

“Locating Sam. He’s not with you and I need to confirm our theory,” Dean said. He dialed Sam’s cell and got a message that said that the number had been disconnected. He tried a different alias and got the same thing. Finally Dean hung up and said, “He got rid of his cell.”

Bobby shrugged, not surprised. Sam took off without a word and Bobby thought him changing cells was his fault. He’d tried calling the kid a few times and Sam said he wanted to be left alone when Bobby tried pushing him to come back. Bobby didn’t get the memo and persisted for a week before the one day he called Sam for his weekly call and got the same damn disconnected message. Sam finally got fed up with Bobby’s bullshit.

“He wanted to be left alone,” Bobby said.

“He wanted to get away from you,” Dean corrected with a knowing look in his eye.

Bobby refused to feel guilty for trying to look after the kid. If Dean was in his right mind he’d be happy in the fact that Bobby was just trying to look out for the kid like he knew Dean wanted. It was one of those things family did.

“I was trying to keep an eye on him because I knew that was what you would’ve wanted. Besides I’ve always considered you Winchesters, no matter how stubborn and reckless you all act, as family. And family looks after its own,” Bobby said. “A thanks every now and then wouldn’t kill you guys.”

“Thanks,” Dean said automatically.

Bobby didn’t feel like pointing out the lack of genuine feeling in it.

Dean turned back to the phone and tried something different. In a few minutes, Dean found Sam with a choice alias Bobby hadn’t realized the boys used, let alone had. Sometimes the bond the Winchesters had astounded Bobby, even after years with dealing with them.

“He’s in Pontiac, Illinois,” Dean declared after using the laptop to trace the phone.

“How’d you even know he’d use that name?” Bobby asked as he loomed over to look at the screen.

Dean turned around and raised an eyebrow before stating, “I raised that kid myself, Bobby. There’s very little I know about him.”

In moments like this, Bobby could almost pretend Hell was just a four month nightmare and Dean had never gone there. Bobby had always been a more glass half full kind of guy.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel watched as his charge and Bobby Singer drove all the way back to Pontiac, Illinois. He followed them, knowing at one point their paths would cross, they’d meet, and Dean would most definitely have questions. Castiel didn’t like the thought of having to bring up his failures in the resurrection of Dean Winchester. The Righteous Man without his soul. That had been a laughable idea among most the angels in Heaven. But now Castiel had made it a reality in a slip of hand.

Hell had been hard to navigate through but Castiel was an angel. He should’ve been strong enough to pull all of Dean out of the Pit. He wasn’t. And he was made to answer to it when he got back to Heaven. Dean was important with a soul. And now? He wasn’t so sure.

Castiel felt a hand on his shoulder. “Zachariah,” he acknowledged calmly.

Zachariah smiled. “Castiel,” he returned. Castiel’s attention was focused on Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer pulling up to a motel in Pontiac. Zachariah let his gaze linger on the men getting out. “I heard of the resurrection of the Righteous Man from the pits. I knew it’d be you, Castiel.”

Castiel tilted his head. “You overestimate my abilities, brother.”

He heard the other angel sigh. “I also know about the little soul fiasco. Is that him?” Castiel followed his gaze to the eldest Winchester brother leading the way to Samuel’s motel room. He knocked a couple times and a demon wearing a slim, young human answered the door. The woman smelled like rot and sulfur. Castiel’s vessel’s–Jimmy Novak–nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Yes, that’s Dean Winchester.”

“What’s he doing with a demon?” Zachariah asked.

Castiel wasn’t sure Dean even realized the girl was being possessed. His brother was the only other person in the motel room though. “Dean isn’t doing anything with it. However, Samuel…”

“Ah, that’d explain a lot of things,” Zachariah murmured.

When Castiel turned to look at his brother, meaning to ask what he meant by that, he felt a chill go through him at the look in Zachariah’s eyes. Something felt wrong but Castiel was quick to shake the feeling off. Zachariah patted the angel on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Castiel. I’m sure we can make this work for us. Maybe it’s a good thing the Righteous Man came out of Hell without his soul after all.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked but Zachariah was no longer there. The angel sighed.

Dean blinked, not sure what he had expected to find when he and Bobby finally reached their destination. A pretty hooker in underwear answering the door and asking where the pizza was, because apparently Dean wasn’t the only one to change during his time in the Pit, was definitely far down on his list of what to expect. He looked her up and down and decided that Sammy’s taste in hookers was actually pretty good.

She looked at him with a look of distaste as he continued to check her out, making a low noise of appreciation. “So are you here with the pizza or not?” she asked.

Dean took a step inside and caught sight of his shirtless brother. “Gotta say, Sammy, your taste in girls has definitely changed. The good kind though, don’t get me wrong, brother. She’s definitely a step up from Jess.” It was probably an insensitive thing to say but it was what came out of his mouth first and Dean couldn’t take it back now. He looked back to see the hooker chick gawking at him and Bobby gaping like a fish.

Sam had frozen in his tracks, eyes wide like he’d been caught on the tracks with an incoming train. “D-do you know these guys, Sam?” the hooker sputtered from behind him.

Huh. The chick called his brother Sam. Maybe she wasn’t a hooker after all. Not that it really mattered, still didn’t change the fact that Sam seemed to have changed while Dean had been gone. Before Dean could process what was happening, Sam was crushing Dean up against the wall. His hand was on Dean’s neck and it was getting awfully hard to breathe. Dean felt his eyes try to roll back at the lack of oxygen. He could hear Bobby shouting something and the chick screaming in surprise at the sudden attack. Pretty soon they’d have the manager and every resident in this crappy motel on them.

“Let him down, Sam! I’ve already been over this–trust me, he’s as human as you can get. It’s Dean, Sam. Something’s definitely wrong with him but it’s him,” Bobby said, a plea in his voice to get Sam to let Dean the hell down.

Sam scowled at him for a moment before letting him go and facing Bobby. “What do you mean by that, Bobby?”

Dean glared at the floor, coughing and gasping for breath, annoyed that they were talking about him like he wasn’t in the room. He looked back up to see the chick putting her clothes back on in the meantime. “Sam? Look, it looks like you’re busy here…I think I’ll go now. Call me later?”

“Sure, yeah. See ya, Kelly,” Sam said dismissively.

Kelly or whatever stared at his brother for a moment. “It’s Krissy.”

“Right. Sorry. Krissy,” Sam said.

Dean laughed. Because that was funny. The two turned to stare at him like he’d completely lost his mind. He shrugged and said, “What? It was funny.” Bobby smacked him upside the head like he did something wrong. 

“Right. Bye,” Krissy said and left.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Sam slammed the door and rounded on Dean and Bobby. His face twisted into his usual bitch face. “Okay what the hell’s going on?”

Bobby squared his shoulders and said, “That’s what we came here to find out.”

“What?” Sam said looking confused as his eyes darted between the men.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Cut the crap. We know it was you who made a deal to get me out of Hell. We came to find out what exactly the deal was about. You going to Hell anytime soon, Sam?”

Sam’s jaw clenched. “No. I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to do it, Dean, really I am but I didn’t make any sort of deal.”

“Liar,” Dean said. “You made a deal and you know it. Hell ain’t a pleasant place with sunshine and roses. You don’t want to go there, Sam.”

“Thanks for that little tidbit of information, Dean. Trust me, I don’t want to go to Hell and I’m not because I didn’t make a deal,” Sam insisted. He paused and added, “None of the crossroad demons would take me. Trust me, if I could’ve I would’ve. But the reality is they didn’t want me.”

“We believe you,” Bobby cut in, elbowing Dean to shut the hell up already. “But if you didn’t make a deal, we’re back to square one. What did get Dean out?”


	5. Chapter 5

“What did get Dean out?”

That was the fifty dollar question out in the open.

Sam sank back on the bed and put on one of his button up shirts. “So now what?”

He watched out of the corner of his eye as his brother picked up a laced bra and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Sammy. Since when did you bring hookers back to sleazy motels?”

“She’s not a hooker, Dean,” Sam said, trying not to reach out to snatch the bra, instead he watched as Dean flung it back on the bed carelessly.

“A new girlfriend then?” Dean pressed and Sam didn’t understand the sudden prying. Dean had been dead. In Hell. This was Sam’s life.

“What I do behind closed doors shouldn’t concern you,” Sam said.

“It doesn’t actually,” Dean said with a shrug looking at the floor.

Sam stared at his brother, a frown on his face. He turned questioningly at Bobby but the hunter wouldn’t meet his gaze. Sam had dreamed, imagined for months now, of seeing Dean again. Now that dream was reality…and Sam hadn’t a clue what to actually say to Dean.

“Dean…”

Dean looked up with a grin, holding up his hands in surrender. “Look, man, it’s not a big deal. We’re not gonna make this a big deal, right? Whatever you do on your downtime is fine by me. You’re a grown ass man, Sammy.”

Sam blinked in surprise. “Uh, okay. And it’s Sam, Dean. Sammy is a chubby twelve year old kid, Sam is the grown ‘ass’ man.”

“Whatever,” Dean replied. “So what are you up to here…if you know, you weren’t the one who got me a get out of jail free pass.”

Sam pursed his lip. He couldn’t tell Bobby and Dean about Ruby but he couldn’t keep the demon part a secret, he wouldn’t. “There’s been a spike in demons here. They all seemed to come out of nowhere yesterday.”

Ruby had actually told him about it and Sam agreed it was weird. It also proved to be a good time to test the limits of Sam’s powers. Sam held his tongue on that part because he knew Dean would never understand. Dean had this black and white view of the world. There was good–humans–and there was evil–everything else. No gray, no in between. Much like Dad. Too much like Dad. And where the hell was he? Six feet under.

“That can’t lead to anything good,” Bobby said.

Dean looked over to Bobby questioningly. “Can’t be a coincidence though, right? That the demons came here just as I climbed outta my grave?”

Bobby shook his head. “Whatever it may be, boy, it ain’t looking good, let me tell you.”

Sam was at a loss at what the two hunters were talking about. “You think a demon pulled Dean out of Hell?”

“Well what else could it be, Sam? Please enlighten us.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not saying a demon didn’t do it. But just…why? Why would a demon go through all the trouble to pull you out of Hell?”

“Thanks, Sam. I feel appreciated, really,” Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I mean, you’re a hunter. We’ve been putting demons back to the Pit for years. And Lilith held your contract.”

“So we can certainly rule out Lilith at least,” Bobby said.

Dean shrugged. “Who knows with demons, man? It’s all mind games with them.”

“If it’s demons we’re dealing with though, it’s not for anything good. Might even be connected to Dean’s problem,” Bobby said after a moment.

Sam startled. “Dean’s problem? Are you okay, Dean?”

Dean scowled. “Yes, I’m okay. For the last time, Bobby, I don’t have a problem.”

“No? You’ve been acting off ever since you got back,” Bobby shot.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, standing up to get between the two men.

Dean huffed. “This is getting ridiculous. I’m gonna get some air.” He left the room before Sam could get a word in.

Sam blinked wondering what just happened. He turned to Bobby and said, “Okay. Spill, Bobby.”

Bobby sighed and sank down on the bed beside Sam. “Now mind you, it’s only just a theory right now.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed.

“I’m thinking something in Hell changed Dean, more than he cares to admit,” Bobby said.

“PTSD?” Sam guessed after a moment.

He saw Bobby shake his head. “Nah, nothing like that. I just…I don’t know. Dean’s been, just, weird. I really don’t know, Sam, but I want you to do me a favor.”

“Sure, Bobby.”

“Keep a close eye on your brother.”

“You know I always do,” Sam said.

Bobby shook his head again. “Not like that, well yeah like that but also…just watch him…for anything weird.”

“Anything weird, got it,” Sam said slowly.

“Thanks and you two better be careful,” Bobby said.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. We will, don’t worry.” He left the room.

Sam found Dean hunched over the wheel in the Impala staring out the parking lot. He startled when Sam opened the door on the other side and climbed right on in. “Hey, Sam,” Dean greeted.

Sam nodded and buckled in his seatbelt as Dean started the Impala. They peeled out of the motel parking lot. “You hungry? ‘Cos I’m starving. Haven’t eaten much today.”

Sam’s stomach grumbled at the mention of food. He’d forgotten to eat too. Dean grinned, “I’ll take that as a ‘hell yeah’.”

“Didn’t get to eat yet,” Sam admitted. I’d been too busy drinking demon blood and exorcising demons with my mind, he thought. He relaxed in his seat as Dean cranked up the familiar tunes. Dean seemed just fine to Sam.

“By the way, Sam, your music sucked,” Dean said, gesturing vaguely to the backseat.

Sam turned to find his iPod dumped on the floor in the back like Dean just tossed it out not caring if it landed on the seat or not. Sighing, Sam picked up the IPod. “It’s okay, baby, Dean didn’t mean anything by it,” Sam murmured.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Did I just hear you call your douche music ‘baby’?”

“Hey, you have your Impala back. I have my music,” Sam replied.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, brother,” Dean said.

They came across a diner a couple miles down. Sam hadn’t been in here before but something felt off since they stepped in. Sam couldn’t help but tense as they took a table and ordered their food. Dean grinned at Sam. “Relax, man.”

“I can’t. I can’t help it. I just…I get these feelings sometimes that I can’t shake, like something…I don’t know, something’s gonna happen,” Sam said, feeling his muscles stiffen when the waitress came back with their food.

“Right. Whatever, Sasquatch.”

Dean frowned into his plate of the slice of pie he ordered. The waitress stood at their table long enough for Dean to startle as he looked back up. “Uh, can we help you?” He squinted at the name tag that read ‘Sarah’. “Sarah?”

‘Sarah’ sat down in between them, her eyes flashing black. “I’m sorry to interrupt whatever it is you two were in the middle of here, but when, literally, a dead man is walking topside again with his brother, you understand why our curiosity is piqued.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sam tensed as the possessed waitress leaned forward, her face eager for any information the brothers could dish out. It reminded Sam of a dog latched on to a bone. This time the bone was his brother. Dean was laid back beside him, like he didn’t give two fucks that there was a demon almost salivating over them sitting so close Sam could smell the mint flavored gum she was chewing.

“I guess I can understand that,” Dean said as he ate his pie like it was the most natural thing in the world having lunch with a demon.

The demon waited for Dean to finish the pie in his mouth before demanding, “What? That’s it? That’s all you have to say? An ‘I guess I can understand’?” Sam saw her eyes flash black in anger and impatience. Dean stopped in mid chew for a moment but it only took a moment for the demon to come to a realization and understanding dawned on her face before twisting into a nasty looking sneer. “Don’t tell me the great Sam and Dean Winchester have no clue as to how a dead man came to be breathing air topside again. Oh this is too good! You know it’ll only take a sec for me to send you back–“

Suddenly before Sam could register what was going on, the air whooshed near him and he was staring at Dean’s outstretched arm across the table currently squeezing the demon’s neck, hard. Her face was turning an ugly dark color from the lack of oxygen and she was making horrid choking sounds and sputters. Dean’s own face was hard and stony. “Shut up, bitch or I’ll make you,” he was saying, pulling off a good impression of one of those serial killers they always saw on the news.

Sam shook from his daze and tried to pry his brother’s arms from the demon’s neck. Right now she was possessed but if the human had any chance of living after this, it wasn’t going to be with his raging brother trying to choke her to death. “DEAN! Fuck! Snap out of it, man,” Sam shouted as he gave another hard pull, feeling his brother’s grip loosen. “She might be possessed right now but there’s still a human in there too! Shit, bro, come on!”

Sam fell off his chair as Dean let go, watching with a detachment that secretly scared Sam. The demon scrambled away from them to recover from the attack. Her glare indicated to Sam that she wasn’t finished with them just yet. Sam looked around and noticed the other ‘staff’ had moved to stand guard at all the exit points in the building.

Shit, Sam realized. This was a trap.

Dean stood up and looked at the demons surrounding them. His lips curved up in the trademark Dean Winchester ‘eat shit’ grin. He barked a laugh and said, “You were hoping to pry some information outta us, weren’t you? Well, Sugar, do we have news for you. We don’t know jack shit and even if we did, what made you think we’d give it away just like that?” He snapped his fingers to make his point and Sam watched as the head demon flinched. She was afraid of them, Sam realized, or more importantly, of why a supposedly dead man was out of Hell to begin with. Dean seemed to realize it the same moment as Sam did because he suddenly squinted at her and took a step forward and said, “You’re as in the dark as us, maybe worse, and you were really hoping to get us to squeal because whatever this is, that pulled me out of the Pit, it’s got you all scared and running, don’t it?”

Sam felt his breath catch as the demon gave the truth away with her eyes. He could see her body tremble in fear, her lips curled back in a sneer. She wasn’t going to confirm their suspicions aloud but her silence was enough. Dean looked as confident as ever and walked up to her. Sam almost thought they’d have a fight on their hands but they were right, the demons were running scared. Her posse did nothing to interfere, Sam didn’t even need to stand up and look menacing. Dean pulled his arm back like he was getting ready to pitch and punched the demon in her face.

She fell back in silence and Dean glared down at her. All the demon did was glare back and then Dean kicked her in the stomach. “You’re all talk, see? Not gonna send me back to Hell or nothing. Wanna know why?” He got on one knee and looked down at her.  
“Because you know whatever brought me back from the dead is much more powerful than all of you. And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t mess with me or Sam because you mess with either of us, you mess with It. And no one here wants that, right?”

He got up not letting the demon get in a word, not that she looked capable of saying anything witty back. Dean turned and grinned back at his brother like he hadn’t just finished smashing a demon’s face in and delivering a bull shitted threat. Sam was at a loss for words for the first time in his life. As Dean walked past Sam to the door, he clasped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.

“Come on, Sammy. I’m not hungry anymore.”

Sam eventually got over his shock and jogged to catch up to his brother. “It’s Sam, remember?”

“Whatever.” The demon standing guard let them out without putting up a fight.

Once they reached the Impala, Sam put his foot down and whirled on Dean. “Dude, what the hell was that back there?”

“That, little brother,” Dean said as he opened the door, “was called a hell of a close call.”

“You just threatened a bunch of demons back there, Dean,” Sam exclaimed, “with no way to back it up! What the hell were you thinking?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I was thinking of getting us out in one piece. What happened to a simple ‘thank you’ for saving our asses?”

Sam sighed and got in the Impala, moody as ever. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. How hard was that?” Dean asked as he got behind the wheel and closed the door.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever. Just…drive.”

He hesitated, the familiar ‘jerk’ at the tip of his tongue. Sam wasn’t sure why he held back. Dean said nothing as he pulled out. It seemed kind of wrong to say it now and Dean didn’t seem to care. His expression as he focused quietly on the road was perfectly blank and Sam had to wonder when it was that he suddenly lost the ability to read his brother like an open book because he could easily remember a time, multiple times, when they’d been out on the open road hunting ghosts and werewolves together, where he very well could.

Sam’s eyes drooped fifteen minutes into the ride when his cell went off. He fumbled into his pocket and pulled it out, feeling Dean’s eyes on him as he saw the ID was from Bobby and pushed ‘talk’. He brought it to his ear and mumbled a sleepy, “Hey, Bobby. What’s up?”

“I have an idea about this thing with Dean if you boys are up for a little trip.”

Sam sat up, the tiredness draining from him. He heard Dean shift in his seat, straining to hear the conversation that would warrant Sam’s full attention. “Yeah, Bobby, of course. You know what it is? What are we dealing with?” he demanded into the phone.

In the silence Sam could imagine Bobby’s head shake. “Naw, boy, but I know a psychic that might. Her name’s Pamela and she’s a real good friend of mine. She knows about you boys too so it won’t really be much of an introduction.”

Sam furrowed his brows at the information that was being dumped on him. The Impala sped faster down the road and Sam was minutes away from shouting to his brother to slow the hell down. “What’s going on, Sam? That Bobby? He know what we’re dealing with?”

“Shut up, Dean. I’m on the phone,” Sam said instead and focused on Bobby. “Talk to me, Bobby.”

“She’s an expert in this field,” Bobby said. “All things supernatural. She can’t summon things per say, but she agreed to help us…look into it.”

Sam contemplated the idea of bringing whatever the hell that pulled Dean out to them. If it got the demons running scared that was good, right? Sam shook away the thought immediately, common sense taking over. If it was more powerful than a demon, did they really want something like that looming over their heads? Sam wasn’t strong enough to kill a demon. He would stand no chance against this thing, whatever it was.

Almost as if sensing his inner conflict, Bobby said, “She’s not gonna summon it to us. She just wants to have a…look at it. Said it won’t even notice she was there.”

Sam still hesitated. It sounded too good to be true. Before Sam could make up his mind however, Dean snatched the phone away and said, “What’s going on, Bobby?”

There was a moment of silence on Dean’s end and Sam knew Bobby was quickly filling his brother in on his plan to see whatever monster brought Dean back from the dead. Dean nodded after a while and said, “Yeah. We’ll be there. Thanks, Bobby, tell her thanks too. Yeah, yeah, we’re on our way now.”

He shut the phone and threw it back to Sam.

“This is a bad idea, Dean,” Sam said.

Dean gritted his teeth, clenching the wheel. “No, Sammy, this is the best goddamn idea we’ve gotten all day. Don’t you wanna know a little more about whatever it is that we’re dealing with?”

“Maybe,” Sam said.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’,” Dean grunted.

“Why are we even looking for this thing?” Sam finally asked. “I mean it’s got the demons scared shitless. It pulled you out of Hell. Hell, Dean, the freaking Pits. You know, with the fire and brimstone and demons with horns and crap? Something like that could be good, right? So why are we looking for it? To kill it? Just…why?”

Dean looked a mix between amused and incredulous. He opened his mouth, to probably say something witty Sam had to guess but at that exact moment, Sam looked up to a faint outline of something standing in the middle of the road.

Sam shouted, “Dean!” Just as Dean swerved the Impala around the thing, a man, Sam thought before his head slammed into the dashboard and he blacked out. The Impala continued off the road for a few yards and Dean looked back to the road. It was empty.

Like it had been just his eyes playing tricks on him or something. He glanced down at Sam, his forehead oozing a trail of blood now. They both had seen it, whatever it was.

Dean looked up to see the man in the trench coat staring straight at him. He had the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. He was mouthing something over and over.

Dean read the word, ‘Sorry’ on his lips.


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel watched passively as Dean swung the Impala’s door wide and stepped out with a gun in one hand and a small box of salt in the other. The angel remained standing rigid as the hunter squared his shoulders and clenched his jaws. He could hear Dean Winchester’s heart beating steadily in his body.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

There wasn’t a trace of fear that Castiel could smell in the air. Even as Dean shouted, “Who are you?”

Castiel wished he could’ve met his charge with a soul instead of without. He was only reminded that this fact was his fault and no one else’s. There was a small ache forming deep in his belly and he didn’t know what it was. He frowned and ignored it. It wasn’t anything important. “My name is Castiel,” he said in his deep, gravel voice. The voice of his vessel.

“Okay, different question. What are you?” Dean looked minutes away from throwing salt on him. His mind was whirling with countless thoughts, countless possibilities as to what Castiel was. It was a wonder that none was even remotely close. Angel he willed the human to think.

Angel. I am an angel, Dean Winchester, and you are my charge.

He said out loud, “I am an angel of the lord.”

“What?” Dean looked baffled for a moment.

Castiel furrowed his brows to see into the man’s mind, digging deeper. He took a step forward as Dean took a cautious step back, until he was pressed to the flat of the Impala. “I was the one that raised you from perdition.”

“Dude, there’s no such thing as angels,” Dean snapped. Dean pulled his gun up and fired a couple rounds at the angel. Castiel stood still as he felt the discomforting itch as the first bullet tore through the trench coat he wore and dug into skin. He could feel the very real presence of his vessel and was reminded that his vessel’s name was Jimmy Novak. Jimmy Novak was a good man. He was a church goer, a married man, had a kid, a family that loved him as much as he loved them. He believed in angels and miracles and God almost as much as Castiel did.

This was Jimmy’s body he was letting get shot up. Castiel looked down and pulled out all three of the bullets effortlessly. The skin began to heal itself. Then he looked back at Dean Winchester, the first ever man to be pulled out of Hell. The first man to be walking without his soul.

“I am an angel of the lord,” Castiel repeated, softer.

Dean threw salt on his face. When nothing happened, Dean blew out a huff of air and laughed. “Damn. You ain’t a demon. This is crazy, man. Seriously crazy,” he said. “You gotta know how you’re sounding right now.”

“I know you don’t believe in angels,” Castiel replied. “I know you never had reason to. Not before.”

“But I do now?” Dean asked calming down and looking at Castiel with a tilt of the head. His green eyes pierced through Castiel. “Because you’re here? Because you said so?”

“Because God has work for you,” Castiel said in a low voice, like he was telling a secret. Maybe he was. “Whether you wish it or not, whether you like it or not, you’ve been chosen, Dean, from all the other souls that suffered in Hell.” He cringed at the word ‘soul’.

“Let me ask you something, pal. Why me?” There was a breath of a pause. “Why was I ‘chosen’? What makes me so damn special? You gotta understand, I’ve never been chosen to do anything ‘cept protect my brother in my whole damn life. So yeah, call me a skeptic, whatever.”

Castiel opened his mouth to reply but Dean cut him off with a look. “Know what? I don’t really care either way. I’m not buying whatever you’re trying to sell me, buddy. Go look for your ‘chosen one’ elsewhere. I’ve got a kid brother in the Impala that needs looking over before he bleeds all over the leather and hell of a lot of monsters to make pay.”

Castiel looked to where Sam was slumping against the dashboard in the Impala. Dean followed his gaze, eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t you dare look at my brother, you piece of shit mons–“

Before Dean could finish his threat, Castiel was already in motion. He slammed Dean up against the hood of the Impala, towering over the man like a shadow. Dean gasped in unexpected pain as he dug his fingers cruelly into belly. Deep seated rage made Castiel push his face into the human’s until their noses were just barely touching.

“You do not threaten me, Dean Winchester, ever. I raised you from perdition, I can certainly take you back,” Castiel snarled.

Dean tried to push the angel off him with no success. Castiel’s left hand came out to push Dean back against the hood, his right still digging nails through the flimsy material of his flannel. He could feel how warm the human’s skin was. He could see the anger simmering at the surface of green eyes. Dean wanted to say something, something witty and biting, he wanted to say that Castiel could stick his threats where the sun doesn’t shine. But Castiel kept pushing, crushing Dean to his car.

Castiel held all the cards here, all the power. “You’ll do what God wants you to do,” Castiel said calmly and let go. Castiel stepped back and watched as Dean pulled up his shirt to assess the damage. The skin was healing from Castiel’s touch already.

When Dean seemed satisfied from what he found, he looked up at the angel. “I’m going to heal Samuel now and you’re going to let me.” He moved to the other side of the Impala putting distance between himself and his charge. He opened the door and put a hand on Sam’s head.

At this range Castiel could smell the demon blood in Sam and he wanted to cringe back but he told Dean he would heal him and so that was what he did. The impurity in the air lingered until Castiel snatched his hand back. Sam’s head was healing though there was still a thin line of blood coming down the side of his face. The human shifted in his sleep.

Castiel turned back to find Dean standing near him, arms crossed. He hadn’t missed Castiel’s reaction to touching his brother and looked like he wasn’t planning on letting it go either.

“You look like you’d touched something really, really disgusting just now,” Dean said. His bright green eyes darted down to his brother then back up.

Castiel’s expression remained stoic. “In a way, I have.”

“My brother’s disgusting?” Dean raised an eyebrow, truly intrigued in the angel now.

“Your brother’s not disgusting per say,” Castiel said carefully, “just what he has been coming in contact with.”

“Which is? Since, you know, we’re in the ‘share and tell’ kinda mood.”

Castiel bit his lip in thought. On one hand, he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to share information like this with his charge. Zachariah hadn’t said much since Castiel completed his mission. The things Zachariah had managed to divulge made Castiel think that maybe this was one of those things that was okay to share. Dean was going to find out eventually. Even a good liar like Sam couldn’t keep his brother in the dark forever.

“Your brother has been in contact with a demon.”

Dean looked at Castiel oddly before barking out a laugh. “No shit, Sherlock. We’re hunters. We gank demons all the time.”

“No…no I mean he hasn’t…’ganked’ this one,” Castiel said urgently.

Dean stopped. “He hasn’t ganked it? What? You mean like he’s been meeting up with a demon?”

Castiel nodded his head.

“And? What do you want me to do exactly?”

“Demons never lead to anything good, Dean,” Castiel said. “I want you to warn him about the path he’s heading down.”

“What is he doing with the demon? If he’s meeting up with it and not ganking it?” Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head. He hadn’t watched Samuel over the months so he didn’t exactly know. But he had a guess and it wasn’t good. “I don’t know. Ask him and tell him to stop. There’s something tainted about him.”

“Is this also a part of God’s plan for me?” Dean asked after a moment. “To burn in Hell for my brother and then come back and tell him to stop whatever the hell he got up to in the past four months?”

Castiel looked his charge right in the eye and said, “No. He has much more important things for you, Dean Winchester. I wish you could see exactly how important you are to this world.”

“But I’m not,” Dean insisted. “I’m just a hunter with a brother to take care of that is on the wrong side of things.” The hunter took a breath. “I…I think I came back wrong.”

Castiel tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t feel the same as before, before all this. Bobby could see it too, right from the start. Even when I denied it in his fucking face. He saw it, sees it. I don’t know what it is, but you’re an angel, you said so at least, so you can see it too…right? There’s something inside me that’s missing, man.”

Castiel knew. He didn’t need for Dean to go on. He put a hand on the hunter’s shoulder and looked sincerely into green eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You were saying that earlier,” Dean said. “Why? What do you know that I don’t? What are you sorry for?”

“I raised you from perdition, Dean Winchester, without your soul. I remade your body and let your claw your way out of the ground. You don’t remember me from Hell, but I saw you, I saw your soul and I failed you. I’m sorry.”

In the Impala, Sam shifted again in his sleep. In a few moments Dean’s brother would awaken and see them. Castiel let go of the hunter’s shoulder. “I’ll be back with further instructions,” he promised. “In the meantime, watch your brother.”

He vanished just as Dean shouted, “Wait! Wait a goddamn minute! What do you mean you raised me from Hell without my soul?”

Sam startled awake to his brother’s shouts and peered carefully to Dean. “Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean turned to him, tightening his jaw. “Call Bobby,” he barked at his groggy brother. “Tell him there’s been a sudden change in plans.”


	8. Chapter 8

When you get in any way involved in the supernatural, you’re sure to come across a name or two that seems to crop everywhere you go. Pamela Barnes knew that. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t actively searching the names out, it just came that way. She could blame a bunch of things starting with one Robert ‘Bobby’ Singer. The man was like a supernatural magnet or in this case a people magnet.

Pamela should’ve realized there was no getting away once the supernatural found you. Once you were in you were in for life. So when one day Bobby Singer gave her a strange call, she shouldn’t really have been too surprised. She was a psychic after all, a very good one. People knew her and her work. Even regular everyday people. Granted those kinds of people liked to accuse her as a hoax or a fraud.

“Hey, handsome. How’ve you been?” Pamela and Bobby had always had a weird relationship, bordering from friends to something deeper, something akin to family. Over the years they talked through telephone and the occasional emails when Bobby could be bothered to get someone to help him find a working net. The past year, especially the past few months now, there hadn’t been a word from Bobby which was strange. Pamela knew Bobby usually liked to keep in contact with the few ‘friends’ he had and Pamela had made that list ages ago.

“Pam,” Bobby Singer’s rough voice grunted into the phone. “I’ve been better…seen better. How ‘bout you?”

Pamela raised an eyebrow she knew the hunter couldn’t see. She adjusted the phone so it fit snug between her ear and shoulder as she started on the dishes. She was at home today. No futures to tell or meet ups with hunters to divulge the latest in monster news with. It was just her and a pile of dishes that needed washing from yesterday. On days like today Pamela liked to pretend she was normal, that the whole world was normal. But Bobby was on the line and that brought Pamela right back to the present.

“I’m good,” Pamela said, then paused before pushing to the real reason that brought the hunter to her phone line. “Now I know that this isn’t a social call so why don’t you get right to the reason you called in the first place?”

She heard Bobby sigh and knew she’d caught him. “Remember that time when we sat down for a drink, Pam?”

“Wait…’02? That time when you’d just come back from that damn werewolf case bleeding half to death? Jesus! How could I forget that, Robert? Especially when that was the only time you bought me a damn drink to repay for all the blood stains you got on the carpet.”

Bobby chuckled at the shared memory. “You remember that pretty well.”

“Well how can you forget the day a man nearly bleeds dry in your own home?” Pamela shot back. They laughed on the phone for a moment before Pamela remembered this really wasn’t a social call. She cleared her throat, the jokes dying on her tongue. “As much fun it was to revisit that particular memory down memory lane, I do have to ask…what’s going on?”

“You remember the conversation we had in the bar after you patched me up, Pam? I told you ‘bout some people. The Winchesters. I need your help now, Pam. Your expertise. Something’s going on, I can feel it. Something big,” Bobby said finally.

And that was exactly what Pamela was waiting for, holding her breath to hear. She didn’t realize it at first but she felt a sense of déjà vu. Like she’d had this conversation before, or something similar to it. It might’ve been in one of her old visions.

Pamela found herself pressed against the counter, dishes forgotten. She studied them with a frown. It could wait for another day. “Yes, yes, okay. I’ll help,” she said into the phone.

There was a long pause on the other side before Bobby said, “Really? You’ll help just like that?”

Pamela smiled. “You’re family, Bobby, you told that to me once, you remember? So yes, I’ll help in any way I can. Just give me a brief on what you do know and I’ll see what I can do from there.”

“Thank you. Pam, really, I owe you one for this,” Bobby said sincerely.

“No you don’t,” Pamela laughed, “but if you insist, how ‘bout another drink sometime, handsome?”

“Sure,” Bobby agreed.

The next hour and a half, Pamela was told all about the Winchesters’ predicament. It was an interesting tale. Dean Winchester’s love for his brother sent him to the Pit. Pamela now knew why Bobby hadn’t called her during the past four months, too busy drowning himself in alcohol and living as a hermit in his salvage yard. He barely left the house. Yesterday had been Dean Winchester’s first day back ‘topside’ and the hunters were rightfully worried about what brought a dead man back to life so to speak.  
Pamela told Bobby to stop by with the boys if they wanted to figure out what was going on. While Bobby was eager to agree, he said he needed a few hours to try and convince the boys that seeing the creature that pulled Dean out was a good idea. Pamela hoped the Winchesters would take to it because she was damn well curious by now.

“Of course, Bobby. Just let me know if or when you’re all coming,” Pamela said.

They traded goodbyes and hung up. The next time Bobby Singer called was when Pamela was in the middle of making dinner for herself. He had decidedly disappointing news. Dean had apparently told Bobby to call it off. Pamela didn’t want to let this go though. Bobby was right when he said there was something big going on. They were going to need all the help they could get.

“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll just come to you,” Pamela said and hung up before Bobby could argue. She went back to her cooking and spent the rest of the night thinking back to her visions. The end of days was coming. Soon. That was what she saw.

It was a long, rough week for everyone. Pamela made good on her promise over the phone and had been staying with them at the salvage yard. Dean told them all about Castiel’s ‘visit’ almost immediately after Bobby had gotten off the phone with Pamela days ago. They were dealing with an angel. An honest to god angel, a trench coat wearing angel. Dean didn’t seem to believe him but when Bobby got to thinking, really thinking about it, he was surprised how open to the idea he was. Demons existed. Hell existed.

Almost every damn supernatural creature roamed the earth. So angels, sure, why the hell not?

It wasn’t all that farfetched. And it made much more sense that an angel could raise Dean from Hell than all the other theories they’ve bounced around so far. Sam was enthused by the idea. Pamela was both intrigued and concerned. And Bobby was probably all the above. The only skeptic in the room was the dead man walking himself.

“Come on, Dean, can’t you see this is the only thing that makes sense?” Sam was saying. He sounded like a broken record by now. Bobby watched from the couch as Sam trailed after his older brother like a kicked puppy. “Dude, this is probably the best damn thing that’s happened to us. Remember back at the diner? All the demons were scared of it. I’ve never seen that kind of reaction from a demon all my life hunting and we’ve exorcised a shit ton.”

“Why are you so adamant on believing that angels are real, Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Well why are you so adamant on pretending you didn’t just see one?” Sam countered.

“Because it just doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. If angels were real, you’d think at least one hunter would’ve saw one before me,” Dean said.  
“Maybe they were in hiding,” Sam suggested.

“But why? Why pick now to show their faces if they were so content to sit back and enjoy the show from up there?”

“Maybe they were waiting for the right human to come along, the right time,” Pamela said.

Bobby shot a look at her. Pam had been quiet all morning, fine to have no part in the discussion as the three men continued to toss out theories. He mulled over Pam’s choice words. There seemed to be a hidden meaning behind what she said.  
“What do you mean, Pam?” Sam asked curiously.

Pamela tossed aside the crossword book she had been working on the whole morning. “Well you know how your old man there told you I was a psychic, right?”

“I ain’t their old man. That was John,” Bobby grumbled.

“Sure, pops,” Dean said with a grin.

“Semantics, Bobby,” Pamela said. “You know what I mean. Anyways, I sometimes get visions.”

“Visions?” Sam couldn’t help but ask. His eyes were wide. Bobby didn’t know much of the story behind that, just what Dean said in a phone call, that Sam used to get these ‘death’ visions. He wondered if the boy still got them.

Pamela nodded, a grimace on her face. “The last one was months ago.” She looked pointedly at Bobby now like he should know what she was talking about but he didn’t. He didn’t know this part of Pam. Even though the psychic was one of Bobby’s closest friends, it seemed they both had secrets that they kept the other in the dark about. Her look turned softer after a moment. “It was about the phone conversation earlier.”

“You knew I’d call you?” Bobby asked, surprised. Everything was new information.

“Yes,” Pamela replied. “At the time I didn’t know who it’d be from. I get glimpses more like. But I’m sure now it was about you, about this.” She leaned forward, her face grave.

“How do you know it was about this?” Dean asked.

“Because of what I saw after. Angels, demons, destruction…the end of days,” Pamela answered grimly. “The Apocalypse is coming, boys.”


	9. Chapter 9

Zachariah watched the Winchesters from the safety of Heaven. He knew Castiel would make contact with his soulless charge the first chance he could get. He was hoping the progress with Samuel and the demon would go along quicker but with the four humans, one being a psychic, all hunkered down in Bobby Singer’s salvage yard as if it were a base, slightly complicated things. Only ‘slightly’ complicated because with Dean Winchester’s new soulless status, he wouldn’t give a fuck where Sam would sneak off if he ever did.

Zachariah knew exactly what Samuel was doing with the demon. He had only been feigning ignorance to Castiel because if any of the angel grunts got whiff of this, they would start to…wonder what it was that the higher ups in Heaven were up to. And Zachariah didn’t need curious angels. He needed obedient angels. Ones that wouldn’t question his motives, ones that would stay loyal no matter what. If they knew these things that Zachariah knew, that only a select few knew…that the strict orders and grand plan didn’t come from Father, they’d surely rebel.

He stared down into Singer’s salvage yard. Samuel was going to need his ‘fix’ soon enough and Dean wouldn’t give a damn. That was good, everything was good. He frowned as the psychic, Pamela Barnes was her name if he remembered correctly, padded around in the study looking over dusty old books with Singer. She hadn’t been a part of the equation but the angel was sure one more human wouldn’t be too hard to deal with if she ever intended to try and put a wrench in the plan.

Dean hadn’t been prepared for the angel, Castiel, to appear in the salvage yard almost two weeks after he promised he’d come back once he received further instructions from God or whatever. He blinked as the angel practically breathed in his air he was so close. He shoved the trench coated angel away from him.

“Personal bubble, buddy.”

Castiel stumbled back. “Sorry. I just got word from God.”

“Yeah. I figured as much,” Dean said. “So what’s he want me to do? Kill a few demons?”

“No. Nothing as trivial as slaying a few demons, I’m afraid,” Castiel replied. “You have a much bigger task, Dean Winchester.”

“Okay, first, slaying a bunch of demons is never trivial. And second, quit calling me by my full name. It’s weird. Just Dean, okay? And I’ll call you Cas.”

Castiel tilted his head. “Cas? My name is Castiel. Why would you call me Cas?”

“Because Castiel is a damn mouthful,” Dean said. “And I said so. Deal with it.”

The angel’s eyes narrowed. “It’s disrespectful to shorten an angel’s name.”

“Look if you want my help you gotta give a little too, okay? And it’s just a name, dude, you’ll get over it,” Dean said crossing his arms.

He was starting to hate Castiel. The angel had been nothing but a pain in his ass since day one, bossing Dean around, threatening him at the drop of a hat. Who knew angels were really just uptight douchebags?

Castiel was quiet for a while and Dean wondered if he said too much. He was confident the angel wouldn’t make good on his word and send Dean back to Hell just for being a little annoying. The way Dean figured was that the angels needed Dean too much to really do anything other than threaten him. Castiel said as much in their first meet and greet. So yeah, Dean was in control here. Not Castiel, no matter how much he made it seem like it.

They stood there just staring at each other for a minute before Castiel finally relented. “Fine. Just…you then,” Cas said.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Just me? You’re not planning on showing yourself to anyone else, are you?”

Cas pursed his lips, an oddly familiar look on his face that Dean remembered seeing a lot on his brother’s face. “I know you told the others about me. It’ll be inevitable that they’ll meet me, being as involved as they all are already.”

The angel’s confession woke up Dean’s curiosity upon hearing it. All this bullshit he had been hearing about the impending Apocalypse. So it was all true after all. The angel’s appearance was the first sign of the End of Days on earth. He imagined a big showdown between angels and demons and the humans caught in a crossfire of raining destruction.

“You mean with the Apocalypse,” Dean said.

Cas looked surprised by Dean’s answer. “Where did you hear that from?”

Dean gestured vaguely to outside the room to where Pam was just down the hall with Bobby and Sam no doubt discussing the latest of her visions. She received another just the other day. Sam and Dean were out in the living room with the TV playing. Sam had taken the couch, stretching all his long limbs out like a teenager and Dean was sitting on the floor. Bobby let Pamela stay in the guest room and near one in the morning, nearly brought the whole roof down on them with a loud, high pitched wail. Sam shot straight up and dashed out like the house was on fire leaving Dean to figure out what exactly was going on by himself.

She dreamt of fire and mayhem and more importantly angels. Pamela was scared and shaking when she explained and Bobby sat on the edge of the bed patting her arm comfortingly. All the while she couldn’t take her eyes off Dean. It made him wonder what she was holding back. Sam and Bobby were oblivious to everything except the visions.

“In case you aren’t up to date with things, there’s actually four of us now,” Dean said. “Pam’s crashing with us until we can make sense of all this.”

“Pam…” Dean watched as Cas’ eyes darted to the locked door. “You mean Pamela Barnes, the psychic, is here with you.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Yeah, her. She has these visions…of the future. Something like that. She saw the End of Days, the Apocalypse. She saw you guys–the angels–fighting the demons. Is it true? That you’re the sign of all Hell loose on earth or whatever?”  
Cas frowned and turned to look at Dean. His eyes looked sort of sad as he shook his head. Dean only had a moment to wonder what was on the angel’s mind before he said, “No, Dean. I’m not the sign of the End of Days. You are.”

The first mission from God sent Dean, Sam and Bobby to check on Bobby’s friends who just happened to be hunters living near Sioux Falls. They found a woman named Olivia torn apart in her own home. Dean didn’t know the woman, neither did Sam, but it affected Bobby deeply and he stumbled back, nearly backtracking out of the house at the sight of her cold corpse. Sam looked horrified and nearly puked over Dean’s good boots. Luckily Dean stepped back just as he bent over and Bobby quickly came back with a trashcan so that Sam wasn’t heaving all over the floor.

Dean looked again at the cold dead corpse of a woman he didn’t know and pressed his hand up to where he could feel his heart beating steadily inside him. There was a dead woman on the floor. She was killed in her own home. She was a hunter like Dean, like Sam, like Bobby. It was a bad way to go, to be ripped apart in your own home where you were supposed to feel safe but it happened.

She probably had a kid somewhere. How many guys did she screw in her lifetime? Dean lost count on how many women he managed to pick up between gigs. He looked over to Sam and saw him wiping his mouth, his eyes darting over to the body before looking anywhere except there. Bobby was already moving through the house trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice snapped Dean back to the present. He blinked and looked over to his brother. “You okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. “You’re not going in shock, are you?”

“I’m fine,” he assured him. And Dean was fine. He was perfectly fine. His hand was still over his heart. It was still beating steadily. He dropped his hand. “Let’s go see if Bobby found anything yet.”

He didn’t wait to hear Sam’s response, moving quickly in the direction Bobby had taken. Dean didn’t get very far before he spotted Bobby trying to work the house phone. He slammed the phone back down and looked up to see the Winchesters standing a few feet away.

“Can’t get any of the hunters working the area on call,” Bobby explained.

That was when they all felt it. The sudden drop in temperature until Dean could see his own breath in front of him. “Spirits?” Sam asked in a half whisper.

Dean looked around waiting for the first ghost to appear in front of them. “A ghost ganked a hunter?” The idea made Dean want to laugh at the irony in it. But it could happen. That was a downside to this job. It sucked but sometimes you just died bloody.  
Bobby shook his head looking confused. “She’s a damn good hunter. There’s no way a ghost would’ve gotten the drop on her.”

“Except it did,” Dean pointed out.

“Shut up, guys,” Sam hissed. “I thought I just heard something.”

The first ghost to appear that night was Victor Henriksen. Sam gasped in surprise and stumbled back a step. But Victor’s attention wasn’t on Sam. It was on Dean. He could hear Bobby shouting something at him. Something that sounded vaguely like ‘Get away from it, Dean!’ Dean ignored him.

Victor smiled, showing crooked yellow teeth and dim, black eyes. “Hello, Dean. Remember me?”

Dean licked his lips and grinned crookedly. “Yeah. I do.”

Bobby shot it before it could say anything else. Dean knew it was going to say something else. He saw it in its eyes. Victor showed up a couple more times that night, along with two little girls that meant something to Bobby and meant nothing to Sam and Dean. Then the real guest star showed up after Victor was shot up in rock salt for the fourth time. Meg Masters.

The real Meg Masters, not the bitch demon that stole her name for herself. The girl that Sam never knew. The girl that was going to college and had dreams of her own and a family she never got to see again because he and Sam were the cause of her death. She tried to blame it all on Dean.

If Dean had a soul he would be down on his knees drowning in misery. If he had a soul he’d feel like the weight of the whole world was crushing him. He’d feel guilty even when it wasn’t his fault. It was obviously the demon’s. If the demon didn’t possess this girl, she’d be happily in college away from all this crap. But she had been possessed and it wasn’t Dean’s fault. It wasn’t Sam’s. It wasn’t Bobby’s.

And Dean could see all this clearly because he didn’t have a soul.

Meg tilted her head. She had a look about her that made Dean wonder if she could see inside him to where there was a black void instead of his soul. “You seem different, Dean,” she murmured.

“How?” He asked.

“I…don’t know. You just do,” she shrugged. But Dean knew she was feigning ignorance at this point. She knew what was different about him but didn’t want to say it, afraid to say it. Dean wanted her to say it.

“I am different. I’ve been different since I got out of the Pits,” he said gauging her reaction.

Meg looked surprised at his own words. “I heard about that. First human to ever come back from Hell. Why is it that the angels picked you to rescue from an eternity of burning when you deserved exactly what you got?”

Dean grinned and took a step toward the spirit. Meg, not expecting the grin to appear on his face, in turn, took a step back to put distance between them. “I’ve made some bad decisions in my life, some terrible ones. Like not following Dad’s instructions to watch over Sammy and let him run away to Flagstaff. Or that other time when he almost got his life drained from him by a Striga because I got it in my head that Sam would be safe if he stayed in the motel just for a few minutes while I went out to play some stupid arcade game…boy you should’ve seen the look on my Dad’s face when he came back to see that ugly bitch hovering over Sammy.

“So yeah maybe I deserve Hell, maybe I deserve to stay there and burn until I turn into a black eyed son of bitch, but you know what? I spent decades down there thinking about that shit, feeling guilty about crap that was beyond my control…and suddenly I get pulled topside and I feel great, better than I’ve ever felt in my whole, sorry, pathetic life. I’m told by an angel of the lord that God has plans for me and I get to gank you sons of bitches without feeling a damn thing. So you can take your sob story elsewhere, bitch, because the honest to god truth? I. Don’t. Care.”

“See ya in Hell,” Dean said and shot the spirit up in rock salt just as Bobby finished the spell in the other room.

After they finished up, Castiel appeared in Dean’s dream.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean nodded in greeting. “Cas. How’d we do?”

“You managed to survive the Rise of the Witnesses.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Dean snorted. “So, what? We do a good enough job in the eyes of ‘God’?”

Cas eyed him oddly. “Unfortunately the seal was already broken.”

“Seal?” Dean asked.

“Yes, seals,” Cas sighed. “Have you heard of Lucifer?”

“You mean the devil?”

“Yes, the devil. Lucifer used to be an angel until he rebelled against God. He is locked in a cage, you could say. There is a door to that cage,” Cas explained and Dean put the pieces together.

“Let me guess, that ‘Rise of the Witnesses’, that damn near suicide mission you sent us on, that’s one of the seals to the ‘door’, huh?”

“That’s correct,” Cas said. “There are a total of sixty six seals and that was one of them.”

“So we ganked the spirits, we put them to rest.”

Cas shrugged. “It was too late. Lilith broke it when she raised the Witnesses.”

“What was the point in making us go there then if it was already too late to stop it?”

Cas shifted uncomfortably. His gaze dropped to the floor. “I am not sure. It was God’s instructions, not mine.” He looked up at Dean with sincerity in his eyes. “I believe in you, Dean. I have to.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sam knew what he had with Ruby was considered unhealthy. If he’d told his college self all the crap that happened to him in the past couple years, Sam knew he’d have stared himself straight in the face and burst out laughing. Sam swore he was done with all this shit. He was done hunting. Done with every supernatural bitch that tried to take away Sam’s right to live a normal, safe, happy life. And what did all that dreaming and planning get him?

A black eyed bitch that had Sam on a tight leash, at her beck and call, any and all time. It sucked big time. But Sam had months to get used to it. Slipping outside to wait for Ruby to call him and ask where they could meet for his weekly hit up was the norm now. Sam was a freak of nature. He was always a freak. He tried to hide that fact by running away from the family business, hitching a ride to California, meeting the girl of his dreams at the school of his dreams. Jessica. Stanford. Being a lawyer. Being safe. Away. All of it was just hiding. Just burying what he truly felt deep down until he forgot it even existed. Until he forgot what he really was.

He was Sam Winchester. He was a college kid. He was a fucked up son. He was a hunter. He was a psychic. And he was a demon blood addict. Sam was all those things. He was a freak. He accepted that. Ruby helped him realized it was okay to stop trying to live the lie he was living. She had been there when Dean was gone. When Bobby locked himself in the salvage yard like an old man ready to give up on the rest of humanity. Sam wasn’t trying to blame Bobby. He wasn’t trying to blame Dean either. It was just…they were gone and Ruby helped him and Sam was finally feeling good about himself, he was feeling free.

So yeah, these late night calls were a regular thing. And Sam was fucked up. But that was okay. For the first time in his whole life, Sam was okay.

Sam fumbled into his pocket for his cell phone. Usually it was Ruby that called but the past month now he hadn’t heard a word from her and it worried him a little. What they did was routine. Every week or two she’d call and ask him what motel he was closest to, and they’d take it from there. She missed the deadline by a week already.

He found her on speed dial and shoved the cell to his ear to listen to the echoing rings on the other end. His body was feverishly hot and he was shaking badly. He was growing restless and Sam was acutely aware he was acting like a drug addict that needed his next fix. That was what Sam was. An addict. The blood he was taking from Ruby was doing some serious shit to his body. He could feel it.

The past four months, Sam hadn’t stopped hunting demons. He still had the knife Ruby gave him tucked safe and sound somewhere and the colt even if the gun was out of bullets. But Ruby came to him and said she knew a way to make him stronger than he already was. He’d be stronger than an average hunter, sharper, faster, everything. And Sam had been desperate at the time. Lonely. Ruby promised him company and revenge all wrapped in one. But as desperate as he was then, common sense won out and the first time around he said no. She held up her hands in surrender and said, “Fine. Whatever.”

Then she moved to the door and looked back at him.

Her parting words sent chills down Sam’s spine. “But you know, Sammy, it’s inevitable. The next time I show up, it’s gonna be me saving your ass and you pleading for me to stay.” It sounded almost like a threat, a promise, both.

She was right. The second time Ruby showed up, dark haired and dark eyed, she saved Sam’s ass and he was grateful and she was able to seduce him over.

Just like that Ruby became a major part of his life, a black shadow that loomed over Sam wherever he went. Out in public, when walking down streets and parking lots with Ruby clinging to his arm like some needy girlfriend, Sam kept his head down and his voice low. Regular people didn’t know what she really was and whenever he ran into other hunters, Ruby managed to slink back into the shadows before they even knew she was there.  
“C’mon, Ruby. C’mon, just pick up already, pick up, c’mon,” Sam said under his breath. He needed blood badly. Ruby promised him that she’d give him some more soon. That had been weeks ago back at the motel before Dean showed up with Bobby. They had been in bed together, planning their next move against Lilith.

Sam didn’t know much about Lilith’s plans. All he knew was that Ruby was worried and wanted Sam to get strong enough to kill her. He wasn’t there yet. He had to continue to drink demon blood so that he could get stronger. Sam was on a dark road to revenge. It wasn’t even about Dean anymore. It used to be that Dean’s death caused each one of Sam’s nightmares. It used to be that Sam would open his eyes in the middle of the night to his mouth gaping open in a silent scream, cold sweat drenching his hair and face and chest and he’d stumble to the bathroom to wash away all the blood and pain and fear from a really intense dream about his brother being ripped to shreds by Lilith’s Hellhounds. It used to be that all Sam could see when he looked at the Impala that was left behind was Dean. Dean coming out of the driver’s seat with a grin and a devil may care attitude and he’d smell of fresh cologne and pie and old 90’s rock music that Sam hated would be blasting out behind him and…

“Sammy? You out here, man?”

Sam jumped in surprise and turned to find his brother, alive and well and tall and all there, leaning against the door, watching him with curious green eyes. He grinned and waved. “You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“N-no. No I’m fine,” Sam said and snapped the phone shut. That got him a head tilt and an odd look before Dean shrugged. Sam tucked his cell in the back of his jeans and walked back inside. Dean followed closely behind.

“You sure?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine, Dean,” Sam said.

“Okay.”

Oddly enough Dean wasn’t interested in grilling Sam anymore for what was upsetting his brother. Sam couldn’t help but feel surprised and maybe even a little…annoyed. Dean wasn’t acting like he was supposed to. Before if Sam insisted he was ‘fine’, Dean would insist back, ‘no, you really aren’t, Sammy’. He’d keep right on pestering Sam until either Sam got fed up with it and stomped to another room or he gave in. Then his big brother would proceed to find a way to either fix it or deal with it depending if the problem could be fixed or not.

That was Dean. Tough, macho man on the outside but a bigger, softer teddy bear on the inside. Sam watched as Dean grabbed a cut out article from the stack of newspapers set to the side and went to the couch. His brother looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

“What?”

Sam looked over at the clock. It read half past midnight. He looked back at Dean and squinted. “Dude, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Sammy?” Dean asked slowly like he was talking to a kindergartner.

Sam bristled at the tone. “Like you’re reading,” Sam deadpanned.

“Yeah. I’m reading,” Dean said.

“At midnight?”

Dean followed Sam’s gaze to the clock and smirked. “Yeah. Got a problem with that?”

Sam gritted his teeth and looked at the lamp that was still brightly lit. It was like the goddamn sun decided to make Bobby’s home its home too. “Yeah I kinda do. Considering we’re both crashing out here and I’m damn tired. Aren’t you?”

“Nah, not really,” Dean said. He waved the newspaper article above him like a flag. “Looking for a hunt for us to do tomorrow.”

Sam rolled his eyes, stomping across the room. “Well I’m tired. Can’t that wait for, you know, tomorrow?”

“Not really,” Dean answered smugly.

Sam turned off the light so his brother couldn’t see his second eye roll. “You take the couch tonight. I’m so tired I’m good on the floor.”

He was out before he could hear Dean’s reply.

The next morning Sam woke up to sunlight flooding through the window. He groaned and rolled over so he was laying on his stomach. The house was oddly quiet and Sam wondered what time it was. He looked up and saw that it was nearly noon.

“Dean?”

The couch was empty except for the left behind news article. Sam felt a brief burst of panic in his belly and squashed it almost immediately. Dean was probably out for a drive, maybe getting some lunch for everyone. Sam was hungry. But he also knew Dean barely left the house since Pam told them about the oncoming Apocalypse. None of them did. Except to go on the occasional hunt. And those, lately, had been happening less often. Dean preferred going on the “missions” that the angel (whom Sam still hadn’t been able to see) gave to them.

But Dean seemed serious about getting a hunt for today. He wouldn’t…Sam shook his head. He was being stupid. Dean would definitely not go on a hunt without Sam, or in the very least, telling him ahead of time. Sam was just overthinking things again. His big brother was probably hanging in the study with Bobby. Any minute now he’d come back in the room and grin that stupid smug grin of his and say something witty and biting.

Sam was just being a big baby and overreacting. He took out his cell phone and speed dialed Ruby again. She had to pick up, wherever the hell she was. She couldn’t just leave Sam out in the cold.

Sure enough Ruby picked on the second ring this time. “Where are you?” he demanded.

“Calm down, Sasquatch. I’m at someplace called…Sunset,” Ruby said.

Sam let out a breathless laugh. He knew where that was. But god that meant Ruby was in the same town. She was so close and he never knew. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“You know where I am?”

“Yeah. It’s a motel in Sioux Falls,” Sam said. “What are you doing here?”

“Business,” Ruby said vaguely. Her voice turned urgent, “Hurry up.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be there. Give me a minute,” Sam said and then hung up.

Wherever Dean had gone he left the Impala sitting out in the yard. Sam was almost able to sneak out without being found. Bobby cleared his throat from behind him making Sam spin around.

“Hey, Bobby,” Sam said awkwardly.

“Hey, son,” Bobby said back. His eyes were narrowed as he stared at Sam. “Where are you off to? And have you seen your brother today?”

Sam rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans watching wearily as Bobby tracked his movement like a hawk. He swallowed and said, “I’m just gonna get some air. Been cooped up here for a month got me kind of restless, you know? And I have no idea where Dean ran off to. I was kinda wondering the same thing.”

Bobby scratched his jaw and sighed. “Yeah, I get you. You’re not used to sticking ‘round in one place for so long, both you and your brother.” He grinned sadly at Sam. “Guess me and Pam don’t make for much company either.”

“No, no. It’s not you guys,” Sam assured with a crooked smile. “Like you said, we’re not used to sticking around in one place.” It was sadly true. Sam had gotten used to road tripping with his brother that he almost forgot what it was like that time in Stanford.

He looked down to see his hands clenched in fists. They trembled slightly and Sam remembered why he called Ruby in the first place. He looked back up to Bobby and said, “I’ll be back in a couple hours. If you see Dean tell him I’m going for a drive and not to worry too much.”

Bobby’s face grew tense and his jaw tightened for a moment. Sam blinked and Bobby blew out a breath and said, “Yeah okay, Sam. I’ll be sure to pass that on to Dean.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Ruby was the first door to the right on the second floor. She opened on the third hard knock and smiled up at Sam, flashing black eyes. Sam stumbled in and kissed her. God he missed this. So much. Too much. If Dean knew how far down Sam had spiraled, he’d throw a fit. He’d look Sam in the eyes and tell him how much his little brother had turned into a monster. Sam wouldn’t blame him. Because dammit, Sam was a monster. No questions asked. He was doing the one thing his brother told him not to do. He was weak and gave into temptation and Dean was too good to have a brother like Sam.

“Hey,” Ruby’s voice was soft and Sam paused in kissing her neck to look up at her. “Hey,” she said again and gripped his chin in both her hands so Sam could see her human brown eyes. Sam could forget she was a demon. He could close his eyes and pretend she was another girl. Another Jessica. “Sammy, look at me,” Ruby said and Sam was jolted from his fantasy. “Don’t think. Just don’t think. Not about Dean. Not about hunting. Not about the end of the world–“

Sam startled. His grip on her arms tightened. “How’d you know about that? About the end of the world?” Sam asked, surprised by how hoarse his voice was.

Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I’m a demon, Sam. Pretty much all the demons know something big is coming by now. Shhh. Let’s not talk about this now.” Ruby gently pulled Sam’s head down to the smooth curve of her neck. Sam could feel the unbroken skin against him. He could smell her delicious blood coursing through her body. It was calling out to him like a siren. “That’s it, Sammy. Just a taste. That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” Ruby crooned gently to him.

Sam had unintentionally lied. He wasn’t back until dark. He hoped Bobby didn’t mind too much. Sam was feeling good as he snuck back inside. It was dark and quiet inside. Sam could make out some leftover dishes on the kitchen table. Pasta by the smell of it. Sam wasn’t hungry though. After he fed on demon blood, he and Ruby went out to a diner nearby and he had a hamburger and fries while Ruby had a slice of pie.

He was halfway into the living room when the light flickered on and he nearly jumped in surprise to see Dean sitting on the couch staring at Sam like he knew something that Sam didn’t. Sam took an involuntary step back.

“Heya, Sam,” Dean said cheerfully. He stretched his legs out on the coffee table and crossed his arms, the epitome of being relaxed. His green eyes were hard and cold though and Sam looked around the room warily. “Bobby and Pam aren’t here right now. They went out to town to grab some stuff. Said we’re running low on rock salt and shit. Don’t worry, they’ll be back soon.”

Sam frowned. “Okay, well that answers one question. Where the hell were you?”

“No, Sam,” Dean said, shaking his head. “The real question is…where were you? ‘Cause see, Cas came to me in a…dream last night. And me and him, we had a rather interesting time. See, I got to learn some stuff. Some real interesting stuff actually.”

Sam swallowed and took another step back. He was pressed to the wall before he realized it. Dean had a predatory look on his face, akin of a cat that just caught up with a tasty mouse. “Like what?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Dean grinned. All shark-like, showing white even teeth. Sam’s imagination unconsciously replaced his brother’s wide green eyes with black ones. “Like you meeting with a demon instead of ganking it for instance,” Dean said. “So come on, Sammy, tell your big brother what you’re doing with that black eyed bitch Ruby.”

Sam froze.


	11. Chapter 11

“I heard you out there last night you know,” Dean said. “You can be awfully loud when you’re trying to be quiet. So what were you trying to call Ruby about? Was that where you were at tonight? With her? Come on, Sammy, throw your brother a bone.”

Sam swallowed. Dean saw him. He heard him. Sam was caught and this was Dean giving Sam a chance to explain himself. Sam took it like a lifeline. His eyes turned pleading. “Look, Dean, I can explain,” he said.

“Get explaining then,” Dean said settling back on the couch. He looked so calm sitting there, watching Sam watch back. “Come on, Sammy, tick tock.”

“Ruby’s…helping me,” Sam whispered. “She’s been helping me for the past couple months, since you were…gone, Dean.”

“Helping you,” Dean repeated. “Like how?”

Sam didn’t want to say it but Dean was going to find out eventually. He took a deep breath and said, “I’ve been able to exorcise demons with, with my mind.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see Dean’s face when his brother condemned him. Sam was already making plans in his mind in getting out of here and retreating to Ruby. With Ruby, with demons, Sam didn’t have to hide what he was. And what he was doing, if Dean couldn’t see that it was helping more than hurting people, well…screw him.

“Hey, Sam,” Dean called out and Sam’s eyes snapped open to look at his brother. Dean’s face was oddly contemplative. Sam felt his heart racing, held his breath, and waited. Dean rose from the couch and stretched. He gave Sam a quick grin and said, “Alright, man, before I come to any life altering decisions, why don’t you and I take a little stroll and you give me a demonstration?”

“What?” Sam blinked. Of all the reactions he thought he’d get from Dean… “You want a demonstration? Seriously?”

Dean nodded. He looked serious enough but this could be a trick. It had to be. Sam repeated it again just for good measure. “Dude, you really want a demonstration? Right now? You understand what I just said, right? Dean, I’m exorcising demons with my–“

“With your mind. Yeah. I know. I heard you,” Dean said waving him off. He was already grabbing his leather jacket and heading for the door that Sam was effectively blocking.

Sam jerked out of the way and followed at Dean’s heels. He grabbed Dean by the shoulder when they were just a few feet away from the Impala. It was dark outside and freezing cold. Sam shivered.

“Dude, wait a minute. You’re okay with this? With me doing this?” Sam blurted. This was insane. It was too much for Sam’s mind to handle. “It was practically your dying wish for me not to use my ‘mojo’. ‘Cos, you know, nothing good ever comes out of this shit.”

Dean looked at him before shrugging away from Sam. He leaned up against the Impala as he waited for Sam to make up his mind. “People can change, Sammy,” he said in a voice that Sam used to hate so much. It was the ‘I’m your big brother and I know everything about everything’. It was a stupid thing to get mad over but Sam couldn’t help it.

Dean was acting so unlike Dean right now and it was throwing Sam off kilter. He was angry and confused and tired and Dean was just…making everything worse. Sam half expected to see pigs flying in the sky.

“Not you,” he pointed out.

Dean raised an eyebrow and opened the door. “Hate to break it to you, but when I say ‘People can change’, that definitely includes me. You coming or what?”

Sam was beginning to realize that. He still hated it. He moved to sit in the front passenger seat. Shutting the door closed, Sam turned to stare at his brother and asked, “Where’re we going? I’m pretty sure demons haven’t suddenly made Sioux Falls their base.”

Dean spared him a brief glance. “Call Ruby. I’m sure she knows where a couple rogue demons hang out.”

Sam hesitated.

“Do it, Sam.”

Sam flipped open his cell and hit the speed dial. “Ruby, are you still nearby? I…I need to ask a favor. Yeah. Okay. We’ll be there in a few. I’m…with Dean. He knows about us. Yeah. Sure. Bye.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “Sounded like a charming conversation, Casanova.”

“Just drive, Dean,” Sam sighed. “She’s waiting for us at 425 Watermen.”

“Cool. Okay, Sammy, let’s get this show on the road.”

“What are you…?” The Impala suddenly sped up and Sam had to grip his seat before he fell face first on the dashboard. “Shit! Dean, slow down!”

Dean grinned and hit the gas pedal.

They made it to the address in record time. By the time Sam was out of the Impala his head felt like it had just been split open. Dean was a maniac at the wheel. Next time Sam was going to find a way to take the keys from his brother and drive himself.

Sam looked up to see a large apartment complex looming over them. This was where Ruby was at. He glanced over to Dean leaning against the Impala looking at ease and relaxed. Sam ran a hand through his hair and took in a deep breath. He still couldn’t believe he was here right now. That Dean was right beside him. Dean, his normally morally upright brother, seemed okay with Sam using his mojo to exorcise demons. Sam wondered when he landed in Bizarro World.

“Come on, Sam, let’s not keep your bitch waiting,” Dean said.

Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. He followed into step behind Dean. It was almost easy, like learning how to ride a bike again, to let Dean lead them up the few steps and Sam taking the rear end. It reminded Sam of old hunts. Following Dad’s orders as kids. Dean had always been in charge. He was the big brother and Sam was…Sam was Sammy.

They walked down the corridor before Ruby’s head popped out of one of the rooms near the end. She gestured for them to hurry up.

“I found this one trying to sneak out back,” Ruby said, gesturing to the man tied to a chair.

Sam looked down at him. The guy looked ordinary enough if you made it past his black eyes. He had dark curly hair and a grin on his face. But Sam could almost smell the fear rolling off him in waves. He was sweating and his face paled considerably when he noticed the Winchesters arrived.

Sam shot a glance to his brother, wanting to take in Dean’s reactions to all this. This was going to show just how much of a freak Sam had become. Sam furrowed his brows. Dean was staring at the man impassively. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaning against the wall closest to the door. It felt strange to not hear Dean yelling at him, telling him how truly messed up Sam was. Not that he needed his brother to remind him of something he already knew.

“Hey, Winchester, eyes up front,” Ruby’s exasperated voice cut into Sam’s thoughts.

His gaze turned back to the possessed man. He looked the demon in the eyes. “I can’t kill you, not yet, but I can send you straight back to Hell. I’ll give you one chance to answer my question.”

The demon just grinned up at him like it was the funniest joke it ever heard. It made Sam mad to see that he wasn’t going to be taken seriously. “And I’ll respond with this. Fuck. You,” the demon spat at Sam’s feet.

Sam ignored it and leaned forward. He had done this before. A lot of times before. “Where’s Lilith?” he asked.

The demon shrugged as best he could trussed up the way he was. “Fuck you,” it said again.

Sam glanced over to Dean. Dean’s face remained blank and Sam desperately wanted to know what his brother made of all this. He looked back to Ruby, then to the demon. Sam took a deep breath. He could feel his heart racing. If Dean wanted a demonstration Sam was going to give him one. He just hoped this wasn’t going to make Dean condemn him. Not now. Not when Sam was baring out his inside, as black as it was, not when he was baring out his soul.

Sam extended his hand out and concentrated. He willed the demon’s true form to come out of the poor bastard it was using as a meat suit. The man screamed as Sam slowly but surely moved the demon out. Black smoke trickled out from the man’s mouth and nostrils and ears. Sam was panting heavily when the last of the smoke fell to the floor.

He was bent at the knees, one hand pressed to the floor holding the rest of his body upright. Sam could feel blood trickling from his nose. He wiped it away and looked up to see Dean looming over him. Sam must’ve been real out of it if he hadn’t even heard Dean move.

“There’s…your demonstration,” he panted.

You gonna call me a freak now? Sam wondered silently. You gonna toss your brother out? You gonna yell at me now, Dean? Tell me I don’t know what the hell it is I’m doing? I…wouldn’t even blame you if you did any of that.  
He just wished Dean would hurry up and make up his mind. Do something.

Instead Dean held out a hand and regarded Sam with non-condemning eyes. Sam took his brother’s offered hand like a lifeline.

Sam wasn’t sure what to make of Dean anymore. A week later, Sam got a call from an old hunting friend of their Dad’s. It was Travis. He suspected a man in Carthage, Missouri was turning into a rugaru. If Sam hadn’t been suspicious of Dean’s newfound personality before, this hunt would have changed that. Dean had always had a black and white picture regarding the supernatural meaning anything that wasn’t human was evil by default.

But Sam was sure before his brother went to Hell, Dean at least had a heart. Sam was able to change Dean’s mind on occasion. But here and now, Sam wasn’t sure he could. Dean had become an impenetrable wall. He shrugged off all of Sam’s reasoning and sided with Travis in a heartbeat.

“Oh come on!” Sam exploded. “You guys aren’t gonna give him a chance?”

Travis looked at Sam like he’d grown two heads but it was Dean that said, “Give it a chance to eat people? Nah not on the agenda today.”

Sam hated that Dean had been referring to the family man as ‘it’ ever since they took the case. “He’s not a rugaru–“

“Yet,” Travis said.

“I know you’re all for monsters’ rights, Sammy, but we’d be saving a lot of people this way,” Dean said.

Sam snorted. “He hasn’t even eaten anyone, Dean.”

Travis crossed his arms. “Again yet. I’m sorry but it’s just a matter of time before he gives in.”

“You can’t know that,” Sam argued.

In the end it didn’t even matter. Sam was sure the man’s fate was sealed as soon as they took the case. Dean was able to burn the bastard before Sam could even realize where he had to go. Sam and Dean didn’t talk to each other for a few days after that.

The next hunt was a day later and it took them to Rock Ridge, Colorado. A man died of a heart attack. Sam and Dean investigated as per usual and found out it was actually due to ghost sickness, a disease that would infect a person with fear until their heart gave out. Sam learned it was passed through touch.

Somehow the sickness skipped over Dean completely even though he fit the victim profile. Sam had been sure between the two of them Dean would’ve been the one to catch it. Instead it was Sam with his back pressed to the seat and his glassy eyes darting around looking for imagined danger at every corner.

Dean knocked on the Impala window causing Sam to jump. He rolled down the window and waited anxiously for his brother to get on with whatever information he could dig up.

“Bobby’s coming by to help us,” Dean said.

“Okay,” Sam said.

“We’re gonna kill the ghost, Sammy, so don’t you worry.”

But Sam was worrying. “How?”

“By fear.”

The case was over and done with before Sam’s twenty four hours were up. Dean wrapped a chain around the ghost’s, Luther Garland, neck and Bobby peeled out onto the road in his truck. Sam learned a lot from that case. Like how ghost sickness sucked. And Sam’s biggest fear apparently wasn’t Lilith. It wasn’t Ruby. It wasn’t the End of the World. It wasn’t the demon blood that was pulsing inside him. It was himself.

Two days from Halloween found Sam and Dean in a dingy motel investigating the death of Luke Wallace. Sam would later wonder if this was the true turning point.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed a little bit here and there but it's been mostly the same since I've written it years ago. Thanks for checking the story out! I'm going to be going back and editing the second part before reposting it, and then reposting what I have of the third (and final) part.

God created the illusion of free will upon all his creations. Michael knew personally no one could ever outrun their destiny. No matter how much you rebel it would get you in the end. Lucifer, poor dear little brother, knew that all too well. Locked up in the cage down on earth as he was.

Michael didn’t bother to turn around when Zachariah found him in the Garden of Eden that afternoon. It was quiet out here. Joshua had the day off.

“Michael,” Zachariah greeted.

Michael nodded his head minutely. “Hello, brother. It’s a nice day today, isn’t it?”

“Sure it is,” his brother agreed easily. “Have you been keeping up to date with the progress we’ve made?”

“You mean with the Winchesters,” Michael said with a tilt of his head. “Yes I have. And like I told you again and again, brother, I don’t care what you do to get them to say it, so long as in the end Lucifer and I can fulfill the destinies Father laid out for us.” He finally turned around. A serene smile graced his face.

“Castiel! There you are. I’ve been looking all over Heaven for you,” Zachariah said as he perched on the other end of the bench. Castiel looked up, startled by the angel’s sudden appearance. He had been watching the town that held one of the sixty six seals. It was just a day ago that his charge, Dean Winchester, showed up in the sleek black Chevy Impala with his abomination of a brother. Castiel knew they wouldn’t stop the witches in time.

Samhain would rise as expected. Against his better judgment Castiel found himself hoping that somehow they’d find a way to stop it. But with Dean’s soulless status he wondered exactly what the hunter’s definition of ‘stopping it’ would mean. As far as Castiel had seen, the righteous man’s brother, the boy with demonic blood flowing in his body, had more morals than him. And that...that was Castiel’s fault.

“Hey now, I know what you’re thinking–you shouldn’t beat yourself up on this, kid,” Zachariah said and put a gentle hand on Castiel’s shoulder. It jolted Castiel out of his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel blurted before he could think. He sighed and clasped his hands together. “It’s just, if I had been strong enough to go back for Dean’s soul…things would’ve been much different.”

Zachariah smiled sadly. Castiel could see children playing at the playground. They were such happy, innocents. It was a shame what was to come. “How do you know it’d be different?” Zachariah finally asked.

Castiel tilted his head and pondered the question. It wasn’t really a hard question and the answer came almost immediately. “What I saw back in Hell, Dean’s soul, it was shining like a beacon. It was the one thing that stood out from the rest of the monstrosity that resided down in the Pit. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man.”

“He is, yet he broke the first seal and thus started this whole shebang,” Zachariah said.

“Everyone breaks in Hell. You know that, as do all the angels,” Castiel responded.

“Yes, everyone does break,” Zachariah finally conceded. “But you know as much as I, no one can outrun destiny. And Castiel? Dean Winchester’s destiny is a big one. Far bigger than all of ours at least, according to Father.”

Castiel looked at the other angel in curiosity. “What is Dean's destiny?”

“He’s going to lead us in the final battle between Heaven and Hell,” Zachariah answered. “That’s the greatness of your...human. The Righteous Man that started it must finish it.”

Castiel took in a sharp breath. “He will lead all of us?”

His brother nodded and gestured vaguely around him. “All of Heaven. Heaven’s own army you could call it,” Zachariah said. “Can’t you see, that all this…we’re in a war, Castiel. Heaven versus Hell. With earth as the battlefield.”

Deep down Castiel knew all this but it still startled him to have it said out loud as such a matter of fact way. “I’m going to send you and Uriel down to help the Winchesters with their little Samhain problem. You two are going to do exactly what Dean Winchester says. Do you understand me, Castiel?”

“Of course, sir,” Castiel answered.

“Great,” Zachariah said.

Uriel was the funniest angel in the whole garrison. Castiel found him funny on occasions but he had to admit, having a sense of humor wasn’t exactly an angel’s strong suit. Uriel made a much better warrior.

“Who the hell are you guys?” Sam asked, busting in with his gun half-cocked.

Uriel didn’t bother to turn from the window. “Why don’t you put your toy away before someone gets hurt?”

“Cool your jets, Sam,” Dean said as he strolled right in.

Sam whipped around to face his brother, his eyes wide in surprise and a hint of betrayal. “You know them?”

“Yeah. At least one of them,” Dean said and pointed to Castiel perched on the edge of the bed. “He’s Cas, the angel. Smartass over there? Hell if I know.”

“A-angel?” Sam stuttered. He nearly let the gun drop before putting the safety back on and tucking it in the back of his jeans. He extended a hand out to Castiel. “It’s an honor to meet you, really. Oh god, Dean, why didn’t you say anything about them coming?”

Castiel took the proffered hand and shook. “He didn’t know we would be coming.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and gave a quick glance to Uriel. “O-oh well, okay.”

“Why are you here?” Dean cut in.

Castiel opened his mouth to reply but Uriel beat him to it, “We’re here because our superiors don’t think you can handle this one.”

Dean frowned. “Okay, chucklehead, who the hell are you exactly? We’ve been doing this job for a long time so I don’t–“

Uriel turned around with a scowl. “I am Uriel and believe me when I say that this is bigger than what you and your brother have ever dealt with in the past.”

It dawned on both brothers at the same time what Uriel was saying. “This is one of the seals,” Sam guessed.

Castiel nodded, his expression grim. It wasn’t their mission to stop Samhain. Not directly. Uriel spun such easy lies. But then with the way Uriel was staring coldly at Dean Winchester, Castiel knew this mission wasn’t going to be an easy one. Uriel would try to manipulate Castiel’s charge to doing what he wanted. He wondered how Dean would respond to that.

“The witch is planning on summoning Samhain on Halloween,” Castiel said.

“We know,” Sam said.

“We also know who the witch is,” Dean added. “We’ve got everything under control here.”

Uriel smirked and shook his head. “Do you really? Because if you did, you’d have found out it’s actually two witches at work here, not one.”

“There’s a second one?” Sam blurted in surprise.

“I’m afraid so,” Castiel answered. “We found this. A hex-bag in your room.” He tossed it over and Sam caught it easily in the air. “They know who you are.”

“Apparently,” Dean muttered.

“Enough of this, Castiel. We have work to do,” Uriel said.

Castiel cocked his head. He watched Dean’s face carefully. “I suggest you two leave immediately.”

Dean’s jaw twitched but otherwise his expression remained closed off. “Why?” Sam demanded when his brother remained quiet.

“We’re going to blow this place sky high. ‘Kaboom’,” Uriel said, spreading his arms wide in a mimic of an explosion. “Damn witches won’t know what hit them.”

“So I suggest you both leave right now,” Castiel repeated. The angel knew Uriel was right to destroy the witches before they could summon Samhain and break the seal. But secretly he hoped Dean would fight against this decision. It was such a waste to see the destruction of some of their Father’s finest creations.

Dean frowned but it was Sam that surprised Castiel. Sam was staring vehemently at them. His eyes shined with betrayal. It was his vision of angels that Castiel and Uriel betrayed. “You’re going to blow up an entire town? For what? The greater good?”

“Yes,” Uriel said, stepping forward. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yeah! I freaking do! Dean and I both do. Right, Dean?” Sam nudged his brother.

But all it got out of Dean was a curious head tilt. Sam caught the look and stared at his brother incredulously. “You’re not actually considering this, are you, Dean? Did you just hear what they said? These so-called angels want to blow up a freaking town! With people still in it!”

“Tomorrow’s Halloween. You two aren’t any closer to figuring out who the witches are as when you first arrived while they already have two of three required sacrifices. Put two and two together. I’m sure you can at least manage that,” Uriel said impatiently. 

“This way, it’ll ensure that the seal will remain unbroken. What’s more important to you? The lives of six billion people on earth or the lives of one thousand?”

Silence flooded the room.

Sam looked at his brother one last time. Somehow he felt that it was Dean that really held all the power here. When he dared to glance to the angels and saw their gazes also fixed on Dean, he knew he was right. He swallowed and hoped that Dean would fight this. Would realize how messed up it was. God was Sam wrong.

Dean’s face was hard and his mouth was a tight line. “Do it. Let’s go, Sam.”

So, so wrong.

**End Book 1**


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